My head is in a stack of papers when I feel those hateful, scathing eyes on me. Glancing up, I see Red staring daggers at me from the other side of the room by the kitchen. Her fire engine red hair is a frizzy fucking mess, and her blood red lipstick is smeared across her cheek. When she knows I'm watching her, she starts to smooth out her wrinkled skirt, giving me a knowing smirk. Not more than a second later, Rampage comes out of the kitchen, right next to where she's standing. She's such a hateful bitch.
Lil plops herself next to me on the stool, watching Red's show.
"Fuck. She's gross and desperate." I couldn't agree more.
"Yeah, she sure is."
"Ya know, she kinda looks like a cracked out Ariel, you know? From The Little Mermaid?"
That she does. It's kind of sad how she is constantly trying to get Rampage to fuck her, or trying to make it appear as if something is still going on between them. It's been a whole fucking year and she won't let it go. She's sad and pathetic. Three kids from three different men, and the fathers have her kids. Not one of them are with her. She has no home, no money, no life. She lives in the club, in a different room each night with whoever will fuck her. Considering she's constantly trying to ruin things between Rampage and I, I don't feel bad for her at all.
"Ha! You're so right, she does."
Time moves on and our stacks of papers have grown. They've taken over half the bar top. Lil and I have been at it for a while, working our asses off. Red's been behind the bar the entire time, giving me dirty looks every time I look up, pissed off that I didn't fall for her little show. What sucks is that I'm thirsty and the bitch is tending bar.
"Can I get a pop, please?" I ask her as nicely as possible.
She glares at me, "Get it yourself," she fires back.
"Bitch! Get her the fuckin' drink," Lil raises her voice next to me.
"No." Red spits, putting her hands on her hips.
"No?" Lil repeats slowly. Red must really hate me. In the time I've been here, I've learned Lil is boss. Tank might be President, Gin might be Vice President, and Rampage might be a scary asshole, but Lil runs the show around here, and all the guys know it. Red knows this, she's just asking for trouble. I think she's finally at her breaking point with me and just doesn't give a shit anymore.
"No, she ain't a fuckin' old lady, so I ain't gotta do shit for her."
It stings a little when she says it because it's true. I'm not Rampage's old lady. Technically, in the eyes of the club, I'm nothing really, just a friendly face and Rampage's fuck buddy. I'm treated like family, but if they want to get rid of me they can. I have no patch. I have no claim. In the end I have no say.
///
"The fuck she isn't," Lil growls at her.
"Rampage ain't claimed her ass. Hell, we all know he's just fucking her. She's not his old lady. She not even his girlfriend, or his woman. She's just a piece of ass and everyone here knows it, but no one talks about it ‘cause she's your friend."
And she is absolutely right. Rampage and I are just shacking up so he can have a convenient fuck. As much as it hurts to say it, it's the truth.
"Shut up, you stupid fucking cunt. You don't know shit. He damn well loves her, you jealous bit, so now, get her whatever the fuck she wants," Lil growls at her.
Rampages big hand lands on my lower back when lumbers up next to me, looking between the three of us. He obviously heard the commotion. Lil looks murderous, Red looks smug, and I'm sure I just look fucking stupid.
"Do you love her Rampage? You haven't claimed her as your old lady, am I right?" Red whines right at him, all sad, puppy dog eyes. Rampages body tenses beside mine and he doesn't answer her.
"Bitch, you know your place, just do what Lil fuckin' tells ya to." He barks at her. She flinches, but still glares at him and I. He doesn't clear anything up though, just puts her in her place.
"Fuck that. She's not your old lady. I'm not doin' shit for her." Red fires back. Turning slowly toward Red, those mean, dark eyes narrow at her. He looks menacing and mad as fuck.
"She might not be, but bitch, you do what you're fuckin' told to do or you can kick fuckin' rocks. Ya feel me?" And all I hear is him confirming that I'm not his old lady. That shit fucking stings and breaks my heart.
"You used to treat me good ‘til that bitch showed up," Red cries, waving a hand at me. "She's never been one of us and you know we could have had something if this little twat didn't show up. I know you had feelings for me, you loved me, I know you did. You just never got the chance to see it because she showed up." Mascara streaks down her cheeks and her chest heaves as she works herself up. She thought he could love her? Was there more to them than I thought? Does he love me, or does he love her?
"Bitch I don't fuckin' love anyone," He yells at her. That's it for me. I know my place as I sit here, feeling my heart shatter into a million pieces. His words knock the breath and hope out of me. They fucking hurt to hear, they hurt more than I thought they would. He doesn't love anyone, not even me. A little piece of me dies with that confession, and I don't think I will ever feel the same.
17
No Love
Rampage
I realize what I've said the second that shit leaves my mouth, "I don't fuckin' love anyone." I instantly regret the mean fucking way I say it. Those big blue eyes close slowly and a small, pained smile touches those plump lips. That sad smile tells me how let down and disappointed she is in me. Oh yeah, I fucking broke her good. She doesn't have to say it. I know what I said hurt the fuck out of her feelings, but what the fuck was I supposed to say?
Was I supposed to say I love her? Do I even love her? It's fucking doubtful. I don't love anyone. I'm not one of those sad pricks who doesn't think they're deserving of it. I wasn't fucked over by some bitch. I wasn't dumped or had my sad ass heart broken. I don't have some fucked up childhood story about never being loved. I just don't think about it or feel it. Love is just a fucking word anyway. In the end, love just turns good shit into bad shit. The more you love, the more you have to lose. Why mess up a good thing with love? We've been going strong for a year, why fuck that up?
Look at Tank and Lil. They love each other so goddamn much they hurt each other. Cali and Stitch love each other so much they fuck other people. Gin and Peaches love each other to the point of hate half the time. My mom wasted her love on a sick bastard who only ended up breaking her down and killing her in the end. I loved my mom once upon a time, and look what that got me? Love can come and go, so what's the fucking point?
I care about Lala. Fuck do I care about her. I care about her to the point of it feeling like a sickness, irrational and crazy. It'd kill me to see something bad happen to her. I'd do anything for her. I'd give that woman my life, gladly take a bullet for her. There's not a goddamn thing on this earth that I wouldn't give her if she needed it. And I'm okay with that shit. But do I love her? No. I've got no love to give.
Lil got a crying and screaming Red out of my face, but the show is far from over. Everyone saw and heard that shit, making Lala look and feel worthless, but instead of lashing out, she sits quietly on the stool. She's not looking at me and she's not talking.
///
"Lala?" I'm not gonna lie and give her some kind of shit hope. I won't pretend I've got love for her when it'd be a goddamn lie.
"You don't love me?" She asks softly. The sadness in her voice hurts me, but again, I'm not gonna lie. We play house. What we're doing could look like it was going somewhere and shit, but never once have I led Lala to think that she was getting a happily ever after with me. I don't promise shit to anyone.
"No, Lala, I don't. It's not that you're not worth lovin', I just don't got an interest in that shit. I fuckin' care ‘bout you though." She nods once with determination and lets it go. That's it. That's all I'm getting from her, and I feel like I've been punched in the chest.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wonder if I made a huge fucking mistake. A ball of dread settles in the pit of my stomach, making me wonder if I should have just lied. Should I have said fuck it and told her what I thought she wanted to hear, just to make her smile. How could giving her that hurt me in any way? It's a fucking word, dammit. I don't plan on letting her ass go anytime soon, and I sure as fuck don't plan on getting with any other bitch.